Will
by Tabloid
Summary: AU. Humans are the only species that have the will to live when death is near. After he finds out his parents are caring for 'muties' people contaminated with nuclear radiation in their basement, Kevin Li learns about his own life and the will to survive
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.  
  
A/N: This is a HUGE AU thingie here, and it involves slash and newsie deaths. And annoying OCs- *points at Katie* Sadly, she has a point and I can't just toss her.*sighs* Luckily she isn't in much ^_^  
  
-----  
  
The school bus lets us off at the usual corner, then turns left at the fork in the old country road.  
  
We go right- we being Katie Bridges, her mute sister Kristen and myself- Kevin Li.  
  
Normally we'd cut across the fields. But life ain't normal now.  
  
We wear those masks like doctors wear on those old Emergency Room reruns that are on the television every so often. We can't walk on the grass or the soil. The stream that we used to swim in as kids is completely blocked off.  
  
"Kristen. Come on." Katie snaps, bringing me back from my thoughts.  
  
"Stay away from there." she adds, grabbing the young blonde and pulling her away from the side of the road. "You know you're not supposed to go there."  
  
Kristen gives no sign of hearing her sister, and just stares at the green pastures and begins to follow us.  
  
"Bear died last night, the stupid dog." Katie remarks, acting as if she didn't care- though everyone knows she loved that thing. "He ran off yesterday. Guess he ate something contaminated, I dunno, but it killed 'im. Killed 'im deader than your da's prize colt, Kev."  
  
"You mean Swifty?"  
  
She laughs. "Yeah. Ha, Swifty. You da loved that thing, eh?"  
  
"Said he could probably keep us from losing the farm." I mutter, jamming my deep into my pockets.  
  
"I'd be surprised if he don't start callin' you that ta ease his pain. " She laughed, then grinned. "Swifty."  
  
I roll my eyes, and she's quiet for a while.  
  
"What kind of name's Swifty, anyway? That's not even a word."  
  
"It was short for Swift Machete."  
  
"That's still not a great name, I mean machete is a cool word and all- KRISTEN! God damn it, get the hell away from the grass!"  
  
Kristen jumps back quickly and looks sheepish.  
  
Katie growls and turns back to me. "I don't know what wrong with that girl. She ain't stupid, can't she realize that the grass's contaminated? We've told her so many times. I don't know what's wrong with that girl, her brain cells must be fried or something, she's probably turning mutie-"  
  
"Katie. She's mute. Not deaf."  
  
Kate turns a slight shade of red, but shrugs it off.  
  
"Ya know." she says, turning to walk backwards so she could see my face as she speaks. "Micheal Pritchett, he's been talking about how the government is getting all the muties to clean off the roads and stuff- ya know, get rid of the grass an' leaves an' puddles of water 'cause they're already contaminated. Radioactive, ya know. I hear they glow."  
  
"They don't glow, Katie."  
  
She shrugged. "It's just something I heard."  
  
"Didja hear it from the same person that toldja about the green cow in Rudiger's heard."  
  
She shook her head, bouncy brown curls flying all over the place. "Nah. Heard it from his brother."  
  
I snorted.  
  
"Ya know, they've run outta places to store the muties. Now the poor fools are just wandering aimlessly. Ain't got nowhere to go."  
  
I just nod.  
  
"I wouldn't take one in, would you?"  
  
I shrug.  
  
"You'd get all contaminated. It'd kill ya. I hear everyone in the city's just dropping dead on the streets."  
  
"That's what you heard, 'ey?"  
  
She nods. "Yeah. I heard."  
  
I shake my head. What she hears isn't the exact truth, and most of the time just pointless. But since the nuke plant leaked a couple months ago, it leaves me wondering whether some of what she says had some truth in it.  
  
Like I said, the world's gone insane. 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies  
  
A/N: Thankies for reviewing Harley and Sita-yu. *luffles Sita* You're my hero ^_^ hehehe.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Mom? Dad?" I call out as I walk through the door. "Mom? You home?"  
  
I hear footsteps pounding up from the basement, then the door flies open and my mother comes running out. She pauses, gathers herself, then smiles. "Hello, honey. How was school today?"  
  
I shrug. "Tolerable."  
  
My mom nods, then walks to the sink and scrubs at her hand. For the first time I see there's blood.  
  
"Mom. You alright?"  
  
She laughs. "Of course I'm alright, Kevin. Just got a little problems with Steel, he got scraped up a little, and I had to get some ointment from the supply downstairs." She says, naming the prize stud. From what my parents say, back in his day Steel was the best of the best- until he the trailer he was riding in got knocked over and he fractured the bone and couldn't compete any more.  
  
I nod. "Does dad want my help."  
  
She shakes her head, her Asian features stubborn. "No. Do your homework, Kevin."  
  
I sit down and take out my math book. As I open it (Algebra- ugh) Mom turns around again.  
  
"Actually, you should probably do that in the tack room."  
  
I stare wide-eyed at my mother. When I was younger I'd always beg her to let me do my homework in the stables, but she never let me- said it was too much of a distraction.  
  
My mom stayed home ever since I was born- before that she was a nurse in the city. It's been about sixteen years since she gave that up.  
  
I blink and gather my books, and toss them in the bag and begin to walk out the door.  
  
"Kevin."  
  
I turn back to my mom.  
  
"Mask."  
  
I nod, pull up my mask so that it's snugly fitted around my nose and mouth, and I walk out the door.  
  
The farm doesn't look much different than before the leak- except for the new fire fit where we burn the dead horses' bodies. Actually, only my dad does that- my mom and I keep away. We can't bury the horses that die from radiation- it'll only keep the poison in the ground.  
  
I walk in the door to the tack room, drop off my bookbag, then walk out into the stables.  
  
"Dad? You here?"  
  
"Yeah, down here!" he calls from inside a stall at the end.  
  
I walk down there, where he's cradling Blue Ghost's- he's one of our two blue roan quarter horses- head in his lap.  
  
I grit my teeth together.  
  
"Ghost sick, too, dad?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Since when?"  
  
"Last night. It hit him hard."  
  
I swallow. "And Blue Angel. Is she sick too?" I ask, thinking of Blue's rare twin sister- a horse so short she's practically a pony.  
  
He shakes his head. "No. Not yet. I'm expecting it soon, though."  
  
"'Heard Steel got a scratch."  
  
Dad paused, then nodded. "Yeah. He's fine now."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"  
  
I shrug again. "Mom said I could do it in the tack room."  
  
Dad looked down at Ghost's head, stroked his red beard (a sure sign that he was deep in thought) then looked back at me. "You should go do your homework in the kitchen. I'll call you if anything changes with ghost."  
  
Meaning he'll call me when Ghost dies and he needs me to back the flatbed trailer into the stable so we can haul the body out to the fire pit.  
  
I turn away as Ghost takes a shaky breath, and walk down the aisle.  
  
We used to have three stables full of the thoroughbred my parents bred. Now all of them fit into the large, center stable. With Swifty's death, all of this year's colts are dead- we have three fillies left. Last years foals are gone, and Angel is all we have of the three-year-olds. Wait- we still have Ghost too. Although not for long.  
  
Steel pokes his head out over the half door on the end, his gray coat shining in the sunset.  
  
"Heya, boy." I run a hand lightly over his neck, then check for the scrape my parents were talking about.  
  
There isn't one.  
  
I frown, but shrug it off. It's probably somewhere I can't see from outside the stall. I pat his neck one last time, and go back to the kitchen, grabbing my book bag on the way.  
  
Halfway though my algebra problems, a crash comes from downstairs.  
  
I freeze. "Mom?"  
  
There's no answer. I swallow, and head towards the basement door. "Mom?"  
  
Still, no answer. My stomach begins to twinge like it does when I get nervous, and I opened the door, walking quietly down the stairs.  
  
When I reach the bottom, I freeze as several pairs of eyes focus on me- although I'm paying more attention to the ones that aren't.  
  
They're the contaminated. Muties. Sick ones, in my basement.  
  
I could tell by looking at them. Even though they weren't glowing. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. thanks to my therapist I'm a lot more accepting of that fact.  
  
-----  
  
"Mom?" I ask shakily one I get my voice to work.  
  
My mom weaves her way towards me, moving around the bodies lying on makeshift hospital beds, and those milling around.  
  
"Kevin. You're supposed to be in the stable!"  
  
"What are these people doing here?" I said, my voice higher than normal.  
  
Mom places a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. "Honey, they've got no where else to go."  
  
"So they had to come HERE?"  
  
"Kevin." She lowers her voice, although everyone's paying attention to just us- some more obviously than others. "They've got nowhere else to go. The hospital sent them here."  
  
"Why?!"  
  
"Because I've got nurses training. And I can help them."  
  
"Help the muties?"  
  
A couple of the people (who I realize, with a start, are all around my age) glare at my use of the term. One guy laughs, real loud. He's about a year or two older than me, but looks to be a lot shorter- I can't really tell. He's lying on a hospital bed.  
  
"You hear that, Ma? Looks like your boy needs some manners." With a start I realize he's talking to MY mom. I glare, hopefully the boy'll read it as a message to keep away from my mother.  
  
He ignores my glare. "Listen, kid, you seem like a bright boy. We're not any of those mutants you kids enjoy talking about. We're just sick, so lay off."  
  
"Anthony. Dude, calm down." A dark haired boy said, sitting on the bed next to him. He wiped his nose on his arm and continued. "He's just a little freaked."  
  
"Freaked? You mustn't of heard him right, Dean. He just called YOU a freak. As in an insult, you big lug."  
  
"A mutant." Another boy stuttered. This one has curly brown hair tucked under a baseball hat, and extremely large front teeth. "Like the comics. X- men or whatever. The Wolverine. Healing powers.ada.ada.ada-"  
  
"Adamantium." Dean supplied. The other boy smiled weakly at him.  
  
"Claws. Sure- sure could use some of those he-he-healing po-powers, huh guys?" he finished, sweating with the effort it took to voice his thoughts.  
  
Anthony laughs bitterly. "Sure could, Danny. Sure as hell could, you smart little bastard." He says, smiling at the other boy.  
  
I turn to my mom and see she's smiling at the Danny kid, too. I whip around and run up the stairs.  
  
At the top, I hear Anthony's laughter again. "Better go after your boy, Ma. He's a little nutso-"  
  
I slam the door shut and run up the stairs to my room and throw myself onto my bed.  
  
Mom storms in a minute later. My mother on an anger rampage could mate Satan beg for forgiveness. I meekly turn to face her, biting my lip.  
  
"Kevin Michael Li. What the hell?"  
  
"Mom, they're-"  
  
"They're sick kids with no home and no one to care for them, that's what they are! I don't know who's feeding you this mutant bullshit, but that is NOT what those kids are."  
  
"They're contaminated. Radioactive." I swallow. "I heard they glow in the dark."  
  
Great. Now I'm Katie. That thought's enough to give me nightmares for the next week and a half.  
  
"That's bullshit too, Kevin!"  
  
She glares at me. "You better get over whatever this is about the other boys. Because you're going to have to help me take care of them."  
  
She storms out the door and- against my better judgement- I follow her out.  
  
"Why are you doing this? What if we all get sick and die? Huh? What happens then?"  
  
"Nothing. We'd be dead."  
  
"Moooom."  
  
"Keeeeviiiiin."  
  
I hate it when my mom whines at me.  
  
"I can't help you. I need to help dad with the horses."  
  
"Dad can take care of the horses himself. I gave birth, I get first dibs if I need your help."  
  
I sigh heavily. "Mom. I don't-"  
  
"Too bad Kevin. Now come with me down to the basement. I need your help emptying bedpans."  
  
"What?!"  
  
------ I luffles this story- hehehe. Luffles luffles luffles luffles. SHOUT-OUTS! WOO!  
  
Kezzles Pateezels: KEZA! YOU RETURN! *loves Keza* YOU gotta IM me, okies! We can obsess over the Pie-age. I must say, I agree with your equations. Do you really think I'm a monster? *is sad* *luffles Kezzles anyway*  
  
SITA-SU!:We're all heroes! *dances joyfully* I like it too.it's a little strange, though. Oh well!  
  
Ravy-Wavy: Er.*shifty eyes* *is glad NY is far from IL*  
  
Pryomanical Llama: Okay first off- LOVE YOUR NAME. Yeah, you reminded me of the whole X-men thing. It's not a cross-over, though-obviously. Cause if it were, there'd be some Nightcrawler and Pyro and Cyclops and Gambit in her. 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies  
  
--------  
  
I have no problem with mucking out stalls. I grew up on a farm, for Pete's sake- plus I'd give anything to be with the horses.  
  
What I do have problems with is emptying buckets fill of- well, you know.  
  
Anthony's having great fun with this, calling me 'wench' and ordering me to bring him some more ale when I'm done. Dean, thank god, could get up and go to the bathroom by himself, as can the guy next to him- a bespectacled boy with brown hair named Adam.  
  
As I bend down to grab the bed pan at the fourth bed, though, I'm rewarded with a kick in the back. It catches me off guard and I fall head first into some medical equipment that the hospital leant my mom.  
  
"Kevin! Be careful!:  
  
"I couldn't help it!" I protest. "He kicked me!"  
  
The kid on the bed glares down at me as loud laughter comes from Anthony.  
  
"Aw, does poor Kevie-wevie have a boo-boo?"  
  
Sick or not, that boy's dead. I know where he sleeps.  
  
"He got be-beat dow-down by a-a-" Danny pauses to catch his breath. "A boy in a hos-hospital bed." He laughs- which quickly turns to a hacking cough, and then he rolls over to throw up in a bucket being held by the guy in the bed next to him. . He was tall, like Danny, and had brown hair that was partially hidden by a faded baseball cap.  
  
He waves at me, holding the bucket with his other hand. "Jason Yazbek. It's nice to meet you."  
  
Mom steps over me to stand next to Bed Four, and she smoothes the dirty blond hair out of his face. "Spot, don't kick Kevin. He's here to help."  
  
Yeah, you ungrateful- huh?  
  
"Spot?" I ask Mom.  
  
She shrugs. "He was found unconscious in the city. Apparently he was beaten up for being a 'mutie'."  
  
I blink, feeling the tips of my ears growing red. "That's not an answer, mom."  
  
"I don't remember." The boy mutters gruffly.  
  
"It speaks!"  
  
Spot just glares at Anthony, but didn't say anything else.  
  
"We call him Spot 'cause he's so puny."  
  
Judging by the look on Spot's face, he'd take out Anthony before I could- at least, if he was able to, he would.  
  
"Mrs. Li? Mrs. Li, Aaron needs you."  
  
A boy with blond hair and glasses points to the kid in the hospital bed next to him, whose face is a deep red, slowly turning purple.  
  
"Kevin, bring that over." Mom snaps. I grab the mask attached to a air pump that my mom was talking about, and hand it to her.  
  
The boy has curly brown hair and mocha skin everywhere except his face- which is slowly returning to it's normal color now that my mom is pumping air back into his lungs.  
  
My mom's an amazing woman, and I love her for it.  
  
Only I never said that, alright?  
  
Mom takes the mask off Aaron's face, and he smiles weakly at her. "Thanks, Mrs. L." "It's nothing, Aaron." As she walks away from the bed, she pats the blonde's shoulder. "Thanks for telling me, Tyler."  
  
Tyler just smiles admiringly at my mom.  
  
I glare at him as I follow my mother away from the beds. She walks over to the stairs, steps on the bottom step, and turns to face the room. "Dinner, boys?"  
  
Anthony and Dean whoop, and other boys chorus their agreement, though not as enthusiastically. Most likely because they felt like shit. One thing though, even if he's deathly sick and most likely won't be able to keep it down, no teenaged boy will EVER turn down dinner.  
  
We're just weird that way.  
  
I go to follow my mom upstairs, but she stops me. "Stay here. I'll be down in an hour."  
  
"Yeah, Kevie! Stay with us."  
  
"Screw you!" I snap at Anthony.  
  
"Kevin!" The boys laugh as my mom scolds me, and Danny goes into another coughing fit as Jason gets the barf bucket ready.  
  
I reluctantly turn back to the group as my mom leaves the basement.  
  
"Hi, Friend." Anthony says in this smart-ass voice. I glare at him.  
  
"Why don't you be social with us, Kevin?" Anthony pretends to be hurt. "I mean, it's not like we're contaminated- oh, wait. We ARE."  
  
They guys all snicker- except for Spot, a guy who's reading a book and another one that's lying on the bed, who I haven't noticed yet.  
  
"That's Frankie." Dean explains, following my gaze towards the corner where Frankie sits reading, and the other boy lies, doing nothing.  
  
"The other one's Sean. I know him from before we came here. He used to be better, but now." Dean sighs. "He just lies there. He's a lot worse."  
  
Anthony laughs. "We're taking bets on who'll croak first, him or Danny."  
  
"Shut UP!" Danny snaps at Anthony, furious. His eyes are all watery, and he quickly focuses on something on the ground.  
  
Anthony and the others are quiet for a second. "I'm sorry, Danny." Anthony whispers.  
  
Nobody responds as they ignore the mention of death.  
  
And the basement's silent except for noises from the furnace and water moving in the plumbing until my mom comes down with dinner.  
  
---------- Okay, so to clear things up, here it is:  
  
Aaron = Mush Tyler = Dutchy Adam = Specs Dean = Snoddy Michael = Skittery Anthony = Racetrack Jack = Franny Sean = Pie Frankie = Itey Spot = Pulitzer- hehe. Just kidding. But you know that ^_^  
  
Shout-outs (since there's only three, I can do it ^_^)-  
  
Harley: Fascinating! Yeah, smart aleck Anthony!Race, doesn't know when to shut up. As in open mouth, insert foot. ^_^  
  
Sita-bita: Sita sita bo bita banana fana- er, I'll stop noe. ^_^ I heart you too! *luffles Sita* Now you need to finish the next chapters of ATCF and BIAP. Cause I say so. And its smart to listen to Tab. *nods* Uh-huh. Yup yup yup.  
  
Hotshot: Yeah, his parents DO need to work on communicating ^_^ And I luffles Swifty's momma ^_^ *luffles Swifty's momma* 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies ^_^  
  
A/N: Keza and Shortie busted my butt to get this up, so here it is.  
  
It sucks, though. Consider this a warning.  
  
---------  
  
After mom comes down with the food, I sneak away from the basement and go outside.  
  
The air seems cleaner than the air in the basement was- no foul smelling medication, no smells from the bed pans or Danny's barf bucket, and a significant lack of the smell that makes me sick- the smell of the muties' sicknesses.  
  
As I glance over the seemingly abandoned paddocks, I remember that the air isn't as clean as it seems. It's deceiving.  
  
Not that I prefer the basement to the outdoors.  
  
As I walk into the stables, I see that my dad has already backed up the flatbed trailer into the stable- and had managed to get what is in no doubt Ghost's body (even though it's covered with a tarp) onto the truck. A couple of our neighbors- including Mr. Bridges and Mr. Guarrani- are standing around the table.  
  
My eyes go wide as I send desperate glances at my dad, who ignores them.  
  
We have nearly a dozen muties in our basement and my father decided it's SOCIAL HOUR?!  
  
"Da-"  
  
"Kevin!" He smiles at me, consolingly. "Why don't you go tell you mother that we have six more mouths to feed for dinner?"  
  
I stare at him wide eyed. Read. My. Mind. Come on! Ah, I give up.  
  
"But what about the-"  
  
Dad cuts me off. "Don't worry. We'll take care of Ghost's body."  
  
"But the-"  
  
"You're right, you should muck out the stalls before dinner."  
  
Parents. Haven't they given me enough shit today?  
  
That works on so many levels.  
  
As the adults begin to leave my dad pauses for a second, and leans closer.  
  
"Say nothing about the basement." He growls. "Don't be stupid, Kevin."  
  
Then, louder, he added. "And you should put Justin into the ring for exercise- it's been too long since you rode him."  
  
Justin's my Morgan. I got him when I was a kid. After I read 'Justin Morgan had a Horse" I had begged my parents for a Morgan. They refused for months then, on my next birthday, they came home from on auction with him.  
  
It's been too long since we were able to go out for a ride. The trails on our property (ones I've been riding sine a kid) aren't safe, not with the level of radiation we have.  
  
I walk down the main aisle, then turn down one of the smaller ones leading off it. Down at the end, a chocolaty-brown head pokes out over the stall door, and whinnies as I cone down the aisle.  
  
"Heya, boy." I grin as I lift the halter over his nose and ears. "How you doing, kid?"  
  
Justin nudges my shoulder as I open the stall door and lead him down the aisles and into the indoor arena.  
  
I let him loose and watch as he kicks up the dirt floor of the arena, stretching his legs and racing along the wall. I smile to myself, shut the door, and head into the house.  
  
I'll muck out the stalls after dinner.  
  
I put on my mask, making sure it's snug, and walk out of the stables and across the gravel driveway to my house.  
  
"Ma?" I call, walking inside.  
  
She's down in the basement.  
  
"MA! Dad's got friends over for dinner!"  
  
My mother's footsteps pound on the stairs and she flings open the door, causing the doorknob to bang into the wall and dent it. I cringe as she runs over to the refrigerator and begins to pull various food items out of it.  
  
"Go downstairs, Kevin. I need you to finish."  
  
"Mom-"  
  
"Now, Kevin!"  
  
I shrug. "Alright, but I request something?"  
  
"Fine, Kevin."  
  
"Please tell me that dinner doesn't involve apricots and week-old chili."  
  
My mom glares at me and shoves said items in the refrigerator, then points to the basement door. "Now, Kevin."  
  
I sigh, stuff my hands in my pocket, and trudge down the stairs.  
  
"I'm tellin' you, Jack, that he-" Anthony spots me, and stops mid-sentence. "Heya, Kevin."  
  
The guy he was talking to- Jack- snickers and looks away.  
  
"Shaddup." I grumble. "My mom sent me down to finish what she was doing. What was she doin'?"  
  
Anthony beamed at me. "Sponge baths."  
  
Everyone laughed as I said "You're fucking me."  
  
"Not yet, but I-"  
  
"SWIIIIIIIIIFTYYYYYY!" A voice trails down the stairs.  
  
Oh, crap.  
  
Not her.  
  
------- Woo. Now I get to add in the Nicknames after they tease Swifty a little about being, well, Swifty.  
  
Short Shout-outs:  
  
Pyromaniacal Llama: Confused? That fun. It's still supposed to me a 'little' confusing. I promise it'll straighten up. Er, I hope.  
  
Harley: 4 a.m. rules. Unless that's when you have to wake up. Then it sucks. Woo! Wench! *dances*  
  
Demon: I love Anthony/Race. He rules *luffles Race* He's so much FUN! *dances some more*  
  
Sita-Su: I LOVE YOU! Wow, that rhymes. Lok at me I'm special! I fixed the Jason thing. I love calling Skittery Jason Yazbek. It amuses me. It's so much FUN to say!  
  
Yoko-chan: That's where I got that from (or at least, along the lines of). I like threatening my brother. It's mucho fun ^_^  
  
Shortie: *glomps Shortie* YAY! Shortie! Wow, I didn't think the summery was that great. And Katie's somewhat annoying but wait until- er, nevermind. Anyway, I need her ^_^. Even though she's mean and she- er. Uh. Dances?  
  
KEZA!: *tackle glomps back* I luffles you! Of course Sean's Pie, and I'm not gonna kill him (LB stories! NOOO!). At least.not yet. Depends on my muses. And if I have the heart to do it (which I doubt) But if he does, it won't be until the end.  
  
AH I CAN'T DO IT ANYWAY! 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.  
  
------ I race up the stairs and stop in front of Katie, who was beginning to walk down.  
  
"Hey, Katie." I grin, over-friendly. "How ya doin', kid?"  
  
She shrugs. "Okay. Guess what?"  
  
"I don't want to know."  
  
She waved a hand impatiently. "Too bad. I'm tellin' yas anyway."  
  
I sigh. Great. Now that she's distracted by her story, though, I grab her shoulders and turn her around, steering her up the stairs.  
  
"So I hear from Isaac- Guarrani, you know?"  
  
"I know Isaac, Katie. I only grew up with him."  
  
"'Course, course. So, apparently- you know the Bennets?"  
  
"Yes, Katie. I know the Bennets."  
  
"Well, a bunch of people burned their house down last night."  
  
I freeze. Burned their house down? Why? Everyone loves the Bennet's! Mrs. Bennet always visits people's houses when they're sick- she's do chores and fix dinner-  
  
Remembering that, the nervous feeling returns in my stomach.  
  
"Well, uh, why?" I ask, pretending to be interested in the dent the doorknob made in the wall.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure but I'll think-"  
  
"Damn it, Katie, just tell me!"  
  
Katie looks me up and down, an odd look on her face.  
  
"Sorry. I was just wonderin'."  
  
She still looks doubtful, but continues. "Apparently Ms. Bennet's real nice- "  
  
Duh, Katie. You incredible MORON!  
  
"So she decides to take in a bucha muties. Had them in the back bedroom. Anyway, a bunch of people found out, and decided to go burn the house."  
  
My jaw practically hit the floor. "But- but WHY?"  
  
"Contamination, Swifty. Duh. You don't want a bunch of stupid muties getting us normal people sick, do ya? A room full of muties, that's enough to kill ya. Yup, very stupid. Hey, hey Swifty, ya listenin' to me?"  
  
No, I'm to busy planning escape routes incase a bunch of wackos decide to burn MY house.  
  
"Do I ever?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I shrug and walk into the kitchen. "Or at least pretend to."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
We walk into the kitchen as my mom lifts the china bowl full of salad that her mother gave her before she died.  
  
"Hey, Mom. Did you hear? They burned the Bennet's house. Apparently they were harboring muties."  
  
The blue-patterned bowl shatters as it crashes to the ground.  
  
---- I luffles this fic. And I luffles my new Bumlets!Muse! *flying tackle glomps Cards for giving him to her and Poley for recommending him*  
  
Shout outs? Okay!  
  
Shortie: Yay! I'm money! Everything's money! WOO! Money! *luffles Shortie too*  
  
Harley: I LOVE that part- and we'll revisit it soon. Cause it's just so fantabulous. I wanna give Newsies a sponge bath, too. We should have a party! And everyone can sponge bath Newsies and it will be SO much fun!  
  
Raven: I know. It was awful. So shoot me. I'm writing the next chapter of Dead Souls (or at least starting it) right after this.  
  
Hotshot: *fells special that this was the first update you tackled* Yeah, there's a bit of grammer stuff.I'm gonna fix that all one day soon- after I finish writing my essays for school. Katie might find out soon- then again, she might not. But, I promise, when Swifty goes back downstairs, they'll all get nicknames. Horses + Swifty= Good (as Keza says)  
  
Flare: WOO! This fics weird, it's just all short chapters. Strange. Wow, now I have to ponder that forever.  
  
Sita: Did you notice this fic has incredibly short chapters? It's strange. Equestrian!Swifty rock my socks. *dislikes schtoopid parentals*  
  
Poley: Did YOU notice this fic has incredibly short chapters? That bothers me. *gasps as Poley is hurt* *sends Dr. Pie to aid her* Thanks for all the reviews, darling! *skips away*  
  
Falco: *tackles the waffles and fights the muses for them* Waffles! WOO! *is sad too* Yeah. It's sad. But, I feel evil saying this, it's gonna get worse *nods* Thanks for the review!  
  
Keza: *pictures spongebathing Newsies* hehehe- oh! Hi! I loved that book too! You but my butt all the time, Keza *laughs* Okay, I exaggerated a little, but oh well. That's why I'm called Tabloid. Yay! It flows *throws a party* 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies ^_^ Woo. No own. Poor Tab.  
  
A/N: Whee. I'm home sick today. Ugh. But because I am sick I decided to sit my butt down and write the next chapter of Will. Who's good? Tab is good.  
  
Except I have no inspiration, so this chapter's gonna suck. So sue me.  
  
*glomps Poley just because she has the review page open and Poley's name is right there and she feels like glomping*  
  
*sneezes*  
  
Anyway, time to write. Ai vay.  
  
----------  
  
Katie's eyes are wide as she stares at my mom. Mom blinks at the mess on the floor but quickly regains her thoughts.  
  
"The Bennets? Are they all right? Where are they staying? Do they need anything?" Mom quickly fires off questions directed towards Katie, then turns to me as an afterthought. "Kevin, dear, will you go get the broom?"  
  
I sigh, nod, and walk towards the back of the house, all the while listening to what Katie has to say.   
  
"From what I hear, they're okay. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are stayin' with some family a couple towns away. No one knows where Ashleigh is." Katie makes a disgusted face. "I heard she ran off with some one-eyed mutie. That's disgusting. Anyway, they're fine... for now, at least. Betcha they're gonna be glowing in a week."  
  
I hand the broom to my Mom. "How many times do I have to tell you, Katie? They don't glow."  
  
Katie shrugs. "I just repeat what I hear. These people have seen muties; they know."  
  
Oh, the irony.  
  
"So the guy in your sophomore English class has seen muties?"  
  
She nods.  
  
"So if he's been around muties, he's probably one too, right? I bet he's contaminated. His whole family is probably contaminated too."  
  
Katie stares at me, wide-eyed. "Oh, my God... I never thought... I have to change English classes now! Do you think they'll let me change in the middle of the year? I could be contaminated! What if I start _glowing_?!"  
  
I sigh. "Katie-"  
  
"I'm going to be a reject from society and I'll never get married and my parents will never have any grandchildren... why am I worrying about that?! If I'm contaminated I'm probably not going to last the year...I'm never going to-"  
  
"Katie!"  
  
She blinks and looks at me. "What, Swifty?"  
  
I roll my eyes. "It was a joke. Quit being paranoid."  
  
She mimics me in a ridiculously high voice. "Quit being paranoid."  
  
"Stupid sophomore."  
  
"Stupid junior."  
  
"Loser."  
  
"Moron."  
  
"Dumbass."  
  
"Kevin!" Mom snaps.   
  
I make a mental note to watch my language in front of my mother as Katie laughs.  
  
Dad and his friends walk into the kitchen, and we all settle down to eat the meal.  
  
--------  
  
After everyone leaves, I bring cups of water down into the basement for the muties. I walk down the stairs slowly, taking care not to spill any of the water.  
  
As I reach the bottom, I see Anthony beaming.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
"Heya, Swifty. What's up?"  
  
I ignore him as I hand a glass of water to Tyler.   
  
"Swiiiifty."  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"'Cause."  
  
"'Cause why?"  
  
"'Cause if you were found dead in the morning, my mother would blame it on the sickness."  
  
"Ah!" Anthony protested, and then turned to Jack. "He threatened me!"  
  
"The bastard."   
  
I try to ignore them again as I give Danny water.  
  
Jack laughs loudly. "It must suck getting stuck with a nickname like Swifty, huh, Kevin?"  
  
Everyone snickers, and Danny goes into a coughing fit, spilling his water on his bed and on the floor.  
  
I glare at Jack and cross the room to get a towel.   
  
"So, Swifty-"  
  
"Shove it, Anthony."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"I'm gonna tell your mom on you."  
  
"What are you, eight?"  
  
He shrugs. "No, but it's the only amusement I get in this hospital bed."  
  
"Glad to be of service," I comment dryly.  
  
"No problem, wench." He clears his throat. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-"  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Anthony!" I exclaim. "Will you ever forgive me?"  
  
He ignores my comment. "_As I was saying_, how come you and Spot get nicknames and we don't? We feel left out."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"I want a nickname!" Jack yells, grinning ear-to-ear.  
  
"Fine, Shithead." I say. "How's that for a nickname?"  
  
"That's not a nickname, it's an insult."  
  
"It's both. That's the beauty of it." I laugh at Jack's eyes narrow.  
  
"I find that funny." Frankie says quietly from the back. Jack glares at him, too.  
  
"You would."  
  
"Lemme 'lone."  
  
"You started it!" Jack snapped.  
  
"Boys!" Mom comes down the stairs. "Get in a fight and I'll beat you with a broomstick."  
  
Frankie's eyes widen. "Really?"  
  
"No."  
  
Aaron laughs loudly. "You crack me up, Mrs. L."  
  
"Really?" Mom arches an eyebrow. "That's a first. Aaron, you are now officially my favorite." she jokes.  
  
A glass of water smashes against the wall, causing glass and water to fly all over the place. Mom turns around.   
  
"Spot." She says in that cold, quiet voice that- when directed towards you- can cause temporary loss of bladder control.  
  
Spot glares at her, not saying a word. Mom glares back.  
  
Neither of them move, until a crash snaps Mom's attention back into the moment.  
  
"Wha..." Mom quickly looks around the area, and then sighs. "Oh, Sean.", she sighs sadly.  
  
A groan comes from the floor by Sean's bed.  
  
"Ah! Noise! He lives!" Anthony laughs.  
  
"Be quiet, Anthony!" Mom shakes her head and kneels down beside Sean. "Kevin, come help me lift him onto the bed."  
  
I roll my eyes, stuff my hands into my pockets and walk over to Mom and Sean. I stand there looking down until Mom lightly smacks my leg. "Well, are you going to help or what, kid?"  
  
"I'm helpin', I'm helpin'." I grumble as I bend down and lift Sean.  
  
He's a lot lighter than he looks, and is practically all bones. His head rolls to the side and rests against my chest.  
  
I quickly place him back on the bed and walk away.  
  
"Kevin. Help me with-"  
  
I tune out my mother's voice.  
  
It's late, and I have school tomorrow.

-----

The is love! Love! Love!

To you guys, not this chapter. ^_^.

PlottingRussianProstitute!Swifty: Zere ees love! Love! Love I tell joo!

Okay shout outs-

PlottingRussianProstitute!Swifty: Love!

*insert eye roll here*

**Harley:** Kooky ideas are my life. They make me giggle. ^_^. And…heh… if you think Katie's mean now, well, she's just gonna get worse. A _lot _worse. As in, homicide worthy worse.

**Hotshot:** *cries with Hotshot* I know! They just so mean! *stops crying* Anyway, you read my mind on what I was going to do about the whole drop- the- bowl thing. Actually it was a toss-up between two things. And that won. Woo. *giggles* I lied. They didn't get their nicknames this chapter (as you have seen) because, well, I still haven't figured out a way to do that. *shrugs* Meh.

**Sita****-Chan: Vat ees zere? Zere ees love! Heh. Anyway, I hope you liked the Bennet's shout out in this one… *giggles and grins* Ah, I crack myself up.**

Keza: I _love that line oh-so-very much. Firefighter!Swifty _is_ sexy… *drools*. Actually, Bumlets!Muse ran away with PieEater!Muse and the others. Pie!Muse tends to kidnap the other muses when he gets mad at me. So I got a new Muse. His name is Red!Muse. He's a very sexy hardworking stablehand!muse, so he agreed to help me with this even though he's not a Newsie!muse. *pats Red!Muse* Good boy._

**Raven:…**.riiiight. Guess what I get to do tonight! Watch UberSexy!Red! *drools over image in her mind* Well, here's some more…actually I lied because you already read it! Hahaha! *dies*

**Pyromaniacal**** Llama: But…but… fire's _fun! And they're all okay…or are they? Muahaha. Er, anyway, uh…this is a Tabloid fic. When people are happy in my fics, that means something bad is going to happen. It's just the way I am ^_^_**

**Jacky Higgins:** Yeah…I read that a couple years ago, when it first came out. I didn't realize it was so similar, though, most likely because it's been a while. Poop. Now I must read that and re-read this and fix it. Schtoopid sub-concious, messing me up. *glares at sub-concious*

**littlewitch1899:** Thanks!

**klover**:** ^_^ love to you too! *dances***

….I was going to add something, but it seems that I have forgotten it…poop.


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.

A/n: Since it is late, there will be no shout-outs. And this is very short. But sweet. Except not. I love me.

==============

Hoofbeats thunder as I steer Justin towards the next jump, my thoughts only on the horse, the jump, and myself- certainly not on any dying boys in my basement. Three strides, two strides, one stride and we're airborne, sailing over the jump.

Alright, it's only about two feet high, but hey. I do what I can.

A single stride between this jump and the next one, and I rise in my stirrups in anticipation of the jump and-

I get catapulted over the jump, minus the horse.

Oh, happy days.

I lift my head from the dirt floor and glare at my horse. "You know, it's been a while since I've had dirt up my nose. I've missed it. Thanks."

Justin blinks as if to say "Who, me?"

"Yes you, you big lug." I push myself into a sitting position, and then stand, nursing sore muscles as I hobble over to him.

"C'mon, lets get you untacked and put back your stall."

I enter my house, closing the door behind me. I pull off my mask, and toss it onto the sofa- I'll take care of it later.

"Mom?" I call out. "You here?"

"Upstairs." She calls.

I trudge up the stairs and down the hall, only to find my mother in my bedroom, with Danny set up on a hospital bed.

I stop. "No way!"

"Kevin-"

"Mom, no way am I giving up my room! What am I supposed to do? Sleep in a stall?!"

My mother shakes her head. "You'll sleep in Kristen's room."

Kristen's my older sister, who's in college on the other side of the country.

"I can't sleep in her room!"

"Why not?"

"Because she's got that poster with half-naked NSYNC, and they keep _lookin_' at me!"

Mom rolls her eyes, and guides me out of the room. She gently shuts the door behind her.

"Kevin, he doesn't have much time."

I blink, my mind attempting to comprehend what she's saying.

"I moved him out of the basement because if he died down there, with the others... it would be worse for them than if he died and they didn't have to watch it."

My mom sighed.

"Just give it a day or two, Kevin, and you'll have your room back. If it's really that important to you."

Well, since she put it _that_ way…

I lie in bed that night, being kept awake by the sound of a monitor in the room next to me-

_beep__... beep... beep...beep..beep..beepbeepbeep_-

And then it flat lines, a cold, monotone buzz coming from the room next door. And then, just as quickly as it started, the noise stops. My mother had unplugged the monitor.

I should get up and go to her, see if she needed anything done, if she could use my help.

Instead, I roll over, pull the covers over my head, and try to fall into an uneasy sleep.


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I do not own.

A/N: I haven't updated since the cows left.

I woke up face-to-face with Justin Timberlake. Sure, that may be the dream of many a teenaged girl but for me, a strapping, mature young man, it was just icky.

Speaking of icky, someone died in my room last night. I cringe at the sharp intrusion this fact applies forcefully against my mind, so soon after I wake up. My skin crawls at the thought of a dead body (Danny, my mind reminds me, but by the crawling it is evident that my skin doesn't care for specifics like that) in my room. My room is supposed to be my safe haven, not a place where kids my age go to die.

Maybe I won't sleep in there anymore. Maybe I'll stay in Kristin's room, with Justin. The ladies will be jealous.

Oh, yeah.

I slide out from under the lush pink (pink!) comforter on my sister's bed, and place my feet on the floor. My breath escapes quickly as I hope a couple steps towards the door. It's only autumn, but since we live in an old farm house the wood floors start getting cold even this early in the year.

I pull on my rattiest pair of jeans, and my dad's old, faded University of Nebraska sweatshirt, and head towards the stairs.

I pause outside the door to my room, and my heart starts hammering in my chest as I take a step towards the door. Is it- is Danny- still in there? An empty, human shell of nothing still lying in my room? I pause before taking another step.

When I was six, I had a hamster. One day I stuck my hand in the cage to take her out, grabbed a hold of her- then screamed and threw her across the cage and ran out of the room. Her body was stiff, and she didn't move in my hand.

Things like that scar you when you're young. My hand shook as I turned the doorknob.

Ever since I touched my dead hamster, the concept of death has haunted me. I would stay awake at night, afraid to close my eyes, afraid because I feared that I would never open them again. My blood would run cold as I considered the concept of my conscious, my soul, suddenly not existing, just as my blood ran cold as my young fingers wrapped around a tiny corpse, just as my blood is running cold as I open the door to my room, where death had taken someone just hours before and (maybe) still lingers.

My eyes squeeze shut against my will as the door swings open. My breathing quickens and I work to slow it down and then, oh so slowly, open my eyes.

My room is empty. Well, not empty. My bed is there, my posters are there (Hey, Freddie Mercury is a rock LEGEND), everything is as it was. As it was before my mother brought Danny up there last night. There's no hospital bed, there's no monitor.

And there's no dead body.

Shaken, I step backwards from the doorway, closing the door until it is snug against the doorjamb. I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen in search of my mom when-

"Heya, Swifty!"

Shit.

My eyes roll even without me thinking about it. Reflex. "Katie, don't you have a home of your own?"

"Home is where the heart is, Swifty-O", she laughs as she bats her eyelashes at me.

I hate girls. Especially girls named Katie. There is a special spot in hell reserved for her, I think to myself as I head to the cupboard in search of my Chocolate Lucky Charms. They're the latest thing, very hip, and they're guaranteed to give me a sugar high that will drown any thought of dead boys in my room.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit at the small kitchen table, directly across from Katie. I quickly lose myself in my own thoughts as I crunch on the chocolate cereal and (almost) stale marshmallows.

However, it is extremely difficult to lose oneself while in the same room as Katie.

"So, whatcha doin'?"

"Waterskiing."

"Naw, really."

"Trying to think up as many ways as I can to make your death look accidental. I'm up to twenty-eight."

Kati's silent for a second, contemplating the level of my seriousness, then dissolves into giggles. Great. The only thing worse than a yapping Katie is a giggling Katie.

Sometimes I think her existence is a giant practical joke on humanity by whatever sort of omnipresent being there is. I sure haven't found any better reasons for it.

"So, Swifty, why dontcha-" Katie's eyes widen and cross as a marshmallow shaped like a clover bounces off her nose, leaving behind a hint of green dust.

"Hey!" she protests, and then squeals as she's barraged by more pellets of sugary death.

"Go 'way, Katie" I glare as I aim a spoonful of Lucky Charms at her.

She glares at me, her green eyes boring into my brown ones. "Fine. There's no use talking to you when you're bitchy, Kevin." she snaps, and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

I shrug it off. So I'm a bitch today.

Maybe it's because a person died last night, no more than four feet away from me.

Maybe it's because he won't be the last.

My home has become a place where people go to die, and that just takes all the comfort right out of it.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer:** Well, I own the DVD, so technically I _do _own Newsies… but not the rights, so I must disclaim.

A/N: Love to Rumor, who had a review spree… November of 2004… I need to update more often.

---

I stand in front of the door to the basement, a tray of water glasses in hand, trying to work up enough courage to open the door and go downstairs. And seriously wondering what everything will be like with Danny gone.

When I was ten, my parents tool me to a theme park, and at the park there was a high diving show. One of the guys dove from eighty feet up in the air, to a ten-foot-deep pool.

I'm as fearful of taking this plunge as he was taking his. Except, of course, that my plunge lacks the promise of a painful, agonizing death at the bottom.

Unless I trip going down the stairs or something.

I push open the basement door and it cracks the drywall on the other side even more. And I make my way downstairs, making a mental note not to trip and fall and end up dying a painful, agonizing death.

After all, there's too much of that going on in my house.

"Hey, guys." I say as I turn the corner and can see the muties once more.

I don't get any real response, just a couple grunts and murmurs. Even Anthony remains quiet, only raising his eyebrow and smirking. However, I've spent enough time around this kid to realize what that means- he can't think up a witty remark.

Dude, I _so _win.

"So, how are you all?" I continue, pretty much just talking to myself as I hand out glasses of water.

Anthony snorts. "Well, we're not dead, so we're significantly better than others."

I flinch, and notice Jason and Tyler have done the same. No one says anything for a couple seconds until-

"Well, I'm feeling a bit better." I almost didn't hear him speak- his voice was so quiet- and I probably wouldn't have if I weren't looking right at Sean as he spoke.

Well, color me shocked.

There's a sudden burst of bitter laughter, and I turn to look at Anthony, who's sneering at Sean. "Well, I'm sure that makes Danny feel a whole lot better."

Sean flushes red as Dean snaps back, "Quit being such a jackass, Anthony."

Anthony turns red and glares at Dean, but doesn't continue the conversation. Or bitchfest. Whichever.

I hand a glass of water to Dean, who is not laying in his hospital bed, but lounging sideways on an old armchair in the corner and reading _A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man_.

"Good book?"

Dean shrugs. "It has its moments."

"Ah." I blink, and shift my weight from one foot to the other. "So. Feeling better?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Dean says, though from the look in his eyes I guess that he's not as well off as he's telling me. "Seriously, though, all I have to do is take a tub of pills a day, and I'm good as new."

I chuckle. "So no glowing?"

He considers it for a second. "You know, I was going to think of a snappy comeback, but I couldn't." Dean then leans around me to look at Anthony. "Hey, Racetrack ol' buddy, got any snappy comebacks for me?"

Anthony laughs. "Let me get back to you on that." And like that, any tension that was between them went away. I guess it's easy not to hold grudges when you know you can die any day now.

I raise an eyebrow as I look back at Dean. "Racetrack?"

Dean laughs. "Yeah. Remember when Jack said that he wanted a nickname? And then Anthony decided we should all have nicknames?"

"Yeah, but I thought- hoped- you were all kidding."

"Well," Dean shrugs, "It does get boring sitting in a basement all day."

"I have bedsores." Anthony- or Racetrack- put in from his place in the opposite corner. "Wanna see?" he adds, lifting his blanket.

"Anthony Higgins, if you at all expose yourself to this room, I will be forced to beat you." And once again, my mother saves my life. Or, morea accurately, my sanity. I don't think there's _anyone _in this world who wants Racetrack to expose himself while in his presence.

"But it will be a loving beating, of course," my mother adds.

Racetrack laughs. "Of course."

Mom notices at me and rolls her eyes in that certain way every mother can. "Jeez, Kevin, does it take you an hour to do the simplest thing?" she asks, looking at the half-full tray of glasses I hold.

I shrug. "Well, you know, I can be pretty useless."

Mom laughs, and gives me a little half-hug as she takes the water glasses and starts distributing them.

I turn back to Dean. "So, what's your nickname?"

"Snoddy." He rolls his eyes, then laughs at my blank expression. "I know, I don't get it either. Other people's nicknames get to make sense- Tyler's Dutchy, since he's Dutch; Adam's Specs, since he has glasses-"

"I'm Mush, since I'm mushy," Aaron, now Mush, puts in from his bed. I blink at him, and he shrugs. "I was kidding."

Dean smiles and goes on, "Jason's Skittery because- well, I'll show you." Dean reaches over, picks up an old college textbook of my father's (_The Enduring Vision: An American History),_ and drops it loudly. And Jason reacts just the way his nickname suggests: by jumping out of his skin and spilling water all over himself.

He shook his head as he swatted uselessly at the damp sheets, "You know, your little demonstrations of my nickname are getting old _fast._" He said bitterly.

Snoddy shrugs "Sorry," he said to Skittery, then lowered his voice. "Skitts is taking Danny's death the worst- they were good friends."

I nod. I had noticed.

"The rest of us, well, we barely knew the guy. Good kid, though." His eyes shine for a second- tears?- but then he grins again.

"Who's left?" Snoddy asks, more to himself then to me. "Oh, yeah. Frankie's Itey, 'cause he's the littlest one here. Sean's Pie Eater because he… eats pies," he finishes lamely.

I look towards Jack, who appears to be asleep. "What about him."

"Well, he wanted to be called 'Cowboy', but you had already named him-" Snoddy's eyes dart towards my mom, "Well, you know. Anyway, he decided he'd just be Jack."

I'm halfway through a response to Dean- Snoddy- when my mom cuts me off, "Kevin, do me a favor and go tell Dad that dinner will be ready in half an hour."

I sigh an exaggerated sigh, "Jeez, woman, make me do everything around here." I laugh as I duck my mother's expertly thrown projectile, unable to catch a glimpse of it as I run up the stairs, grab my mask, and run out the door.

----

I slow down from my run as I enter the stable- a lifetime of doing so makes it an automatic habit- and walk briskly down the center aisle.

"Dad?" I call, and pop my head into the tack room. On the dry-erase board is a note:

_Kev-_

_I ran to the Guarrani's to help Emmitt and Isaac with something. Tell mom I'll be back at about 7:30._

_-Dad_

I look at my watch and roll my eyes- it's 6:35. My parents need to work on their communication.

Seriously, if it weren't for me, neither of them would know what the hell was going on with the other.

I'm so useful.

Since I'm out here, I grab a carrot out of the mini-fridge and head down the aisle to Justin's stall. Halfway down the aisle I whistle.

Justin's neighbor, a chestnut named Griffin, sticks his head over his stall's half-door and looks at me expectantly. I laugh, and break the carrot in half, and feed him a piece while waiting for Justin to come join us.

He doesn't.

The sinking feeling I had while facing the basement door returns to me, ten-fold. I whistle again- there's no way in hell I'm going to look over the stall door and into Justin's stall unless I absolutely have to.

There's a whinny from the adjacent aisle, and some rustling from Justin's stall, followed by a large sigh.

The breath I was holding in escapes quickly- for a second there I thought Justin had died. I quickly cover the distance between Griffin's stall door and Justin's.

I whistle once more as I lean over the stall door, and smile as I see Justin start to get up.

He stops mid-motion, though, and I feel my smile disappear from my face. And as Justin collapses back onto the hay-covered floor of his stall, and looks at me with clouded brown eyes, I know and the sinking feeling returns.

Justin hadn't died, like I initially feared. Hadn't died- yet.

-------

I updated again. And I made a mid-years resolution to be more active in the writing and the updating- and perhaps even finish this thing by New Years, where I will make a REAL resolution.

Now, shout outs from Chapter 9:

**L.T.N.N:** Yeah, the last one was short, but this is quite a bit longer, so hopefully that's better . And Freddie Mercury ROCKS.

What? That's all? One review? I'm so disappointed (HINT!).

Anyway, I'm going to go type out the first chapter of the story I started while on vacation. Keep a look out for it.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.

A/N: This chapter is in honor of Will's second birthday: August 8th, 2005. Awwww. It's also dedicated to my copy of _Blood Drips_. Woo. And Sita, along with her wondrous story (stories?) Fairly Stupid Tales. Read them. They're gold.

A/N 2: I just can't get past the feeling that I'm sucking. Taking a year off writing screws you up.

**Warning: **LANGUAGE!

----------

"Jeez, Swifty, got your panties in a bundle?"

I glare over my shoulder at Racetrack as I lift Skittery's bedpan- being careful to hold it out an arm's length away, of course. "Shuddup, Race, I spend enough time dealing with your shit."

"Everyone else's as well, wench."

Fuck it. I come in to tell my mom about poor Justin, and instead of any reaction about the news that my baby- er, my horse- is about to kick it, my mom gives me direct orders to come down here and deal with this shit. Both literally and figuratively.

I ignore Race and storm upstairs- well, as much storming as is safe when you're carrying a bucket full of excrement- and get ready to slam the door when I hear-

"Saucy little wench, ain't he?" My eyes narrow and I slam the door hard enough to cause the wall to shake.

Asshole.

I go to the bathroom, dump the Shit de Skittery, and storm into the kitchen. My mom turns to me as I enter- my storming is much more impressive now that I'm not as weighed down- and I throw the bedpan at her feet.

"I'm done with this."

Mom sighs wearily. Normally that would be enough to make me feel guilty, but I don't give a fuck right now. "Kevin, really, that's enough. You-"

"Shut up, Mom." I snap, and she raises her eyebrows at me. "Seriously. Things are bad enough here, with the horses and all, that we don't need these damn muties . Or family's livelihood is out in the barn, dropping like flies, and you don't seem to give a damn. You care more about those bastards in the basement more than you do your own family!"

I stop to take a deep breath. "If you want to keep them here, fine, but I'm not helping. And I think it's a stupid idea."

Mom's and my eyes meet for the first time since I started yelling.

Seriously, I don't know what I expected. Maybe it was for her to burst into tears, and apologize for making my life miserable for the past few weeks. Maybe a resigned sigh, and a promise to get the muties out of the house by the end of the week.

Certainly not for my mother to glare pure death at me- all five-feet-two-inches of her seeming to tower over six-foot-one me- and definitely not her icy response of, "Well, Kevin, I don't take advice from seventeen-year-olds. God knows how you became such a selfish brat- I'm ashamed that any son of mine acts the way you do."

For a second I'm shocked. But then I'm seeing red.

"Well, fine, then." I snap back, straightening up to my full height in a futile attempt to appear more dominant than my mother. "Ignore me, and get our house burned down like the Bennets'. Make us homeless, maybe even dead. I'm done with your shit, mother, and I just hope I'm around when this all blows up in your face."

As I glare at my mother, I know I'm going to be ashamed of this moment in retrospect. But that's later. Right now, I am _so _not giving a damn. Anger clouds my vision as I tear out of the kitchen and towards the back door. I snatch at my mask once, twice, only the third time is my vision clear enough to actually grab hold of the mask. I pull it down quickly over my face, ignoring the pain as the elastic band snaps harshly against the back of my head, and then leave, slamming the door behind me.

----

I am Kevin Michael Li, and nothing escapes my fury.

An empty water bucket sits in the aisle as I enter the barn. I aim a well-placed kick at it, and send it flying down the aisle.

It crashes against Angel's stall door, and I hear the filly give a startled snort and scamper from the sound.

I feel myself melt. Okay, so the horses escape my fury. But nothing else does- not that woman in the house who calls herself my mother, and most definitely not those soon-to-be-corpses in the basement.

It's not my fault my mother's a soft-hearted fool, and it's not my fault they had to come here.

But I have other things to deal with- more important things.

I stop at the tack room to grab a lunge line, and then head towards Justin's stall.

-----

"Come on, boy, you can do it. I know it." I pant and put my hand against the wall, leaning against it to catch my breath. "Just stand up, and you'll feel better. I promise."

Justin looks up at me with sad eyes, and I grimace at the defeat I see in them.

I grit my teeth, and get a better grip on his halter. I'll be damned if radiation sickness'll kill any more horses of mine. And I'll be damned twice if Justin's included in that number.

"Okay, kiddo, the count of three." I ignore the look he gives me as I widen my stance to one that will supply the best support for heavy pulling. "One… two… three!"

I pull, slowly but surely, on Justin's halter. The horse grunts, shifts his weight so that his feet are under him, and slowly, shakily pushes the front half of his body up.

I let out a whoop of mirth- _damn _I'm good!- but it soon becomes apparent that my joy is far too premature. Far too premature as in, within seconds, Justin crashes back to the ground.

Damn it, damn it, _damn it_.

"You know, I once had a dog."

I jump and wheel around, and see Snoddy leaning against the stall door.

"Don't care." I respond to this unwelcome interruption.

Snoddy shrugged. "He was a puppy-mill dog. Ended up developing a brain tumor. He had seizures for most of his life, and then one morning he refused to get up. He just lay there, refusing to get up, eat, drink, whatever. My mom told me it's because animals have no real will to live. I mean, look at your horse, he's giving up."

"Seriously. Fuck _off_, Dean."

He shrugs again. "I'm just trying to help."

I snort. "Oh, yes, because your little anecdote is _such _a consolation."

"Race is right, Swifty, you can be a bitch."

"Listen, you freaks can play Fun-With-Nicknames all you want, but I'm not a part of your little clique, alright? My name's Kevin."

"Oh, like that's so much better. Wench."

Great, Racetrack's starting to rub off on him.

Snoddy sighs and grumbles to himself a little as he walks over to where I'm standing, bends down, and grabs a hold of Justin's halter. He gives a little tug, while clicking his tongue, and Justin starts trying to stand up again.

I'm sick of this. Sick of him, sick of them all, sick of everyone. And, almost before I realize it, I'm taking a swing at Snoddy. As my fist connects with his jaw, he stumbles back against the stall wall.

"What the hell, man, I'm trying to help you!" He glares at me as he rubs the spot where I hit him, which looks like it's already starting to bruise.

I glare back. "I don't need your help. Now get the hell out of my stable. You don't belong here."

He snorts in response. "Sure, I do. Your parents invited me, your precious little farm is where I belong now."

"No. It isn't." I get up in his face, anger once again blurring my vision. "_You don't belong anywhere._"

For a second, Snoddy looks as if I had hit him again, but his face contorts into a scowl so quickly that I'm not quite sure that's what I saw. "Freak." He snarls at me, and then stalks out of the stall and down the aisle.

"Look who's talking!" I yell back.

Oh, yeah, great comeback, Swifty.

Kevin. I meant Kevin.

Fuck.

-----

I waited about five minutes- plenty of time, I figured, for Snoddy to get back into the house- and snuck out of the stables and into the garage.

By the time I fired up the ol' Chevy, I was home free.

The old pickup flew (okay, sputtered) over the gravel road, and squealed in protest as I quickly turned it down the next driveway I came to.

It had barely stopped before I threw it into park, and barreled out the car door and up to the house's own door, and knocked. After a second the door swung open, and Kristen Bridges stood in the doorway.

"Hey, Krissy, is Katie home?" The twelve-year-old shook her head, brown curls bouncing. "Fantastic. Can I use your phone?"

Smiling sweetly, Kristen backs up and lets me into the house- the kitchen, to be exact. On the left side of the door hangs the telephone, and next to it the Bridges' had posted a sheet of paper with emergency phone numbers. I scan it quickly, and find what I was looking for at the sheet's eighth entry.

I dial quickly, and listen as the phone rings once, twice, then:

"Radiation Control Center, how may I help you?"

--------

Aaaand, it's a cliff hanger. Don't you love me?

Shoutouts!

**Melissa: **Thanks!

**Sita-Pita: **Told you I'd do a plug. Don't you love me? And here's the next chapter- did you die of shock again? 'Cause it amuses me so.

**Jacky Higgins: **I've updated AGAIN! You should be even MORE glad.

**L.T.N.N: **I effing LOVE Joyce. My old DVD had died, so I had to get a new copy. And Yes. It rocks. And is this a better amount of time between chapters?

**Hobbit1400: **I probably won't, but shhhh! Don't tell anyone.

P.S: I'm having SERIOUS nostalgia attacks, loves. For pre-M.F. times.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.  
**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Sita, who is my enabler. Apparently, she wants me to get dropped from all my classes this fall because I didn't do any of my summer work.**

**--------**

I open my mouth to reply, then freeze.

"Hello?"

One second, please. Kevin's a bit preoccupied at the moment- his conscience has decided to kick his ass.

"Hello?" the person on the other line repeats. _One second_, buddy, I'm too busy hoping I don't go to hell. Because, seriously, that would not be fun.

My mother was right- I am a selfish little ass. I _hate_ it when she's right.

"Listen, if this is some sort of joke-"

And then the phone goes dead in my hand. I turn around, and see that Kristen has unplugged the phone. Her blue eyes bore into mine as I stand there, gawking, and she slowly shakes her head.

What the hell?

"Krissy, what the-" I'm cut off as the door swings open and Mr. and Mrs. Bridges come in.

"Kevin, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Bridges asks, surprised to see me standing in the middle of the kitchen.

I force a smile across my face and reach for one of the grocery bags she's holding. "Just needed to use your phone, Mrs. B, and Krissy was nice enough to let me in. Here, let me help you with that."

She smiles and passes me a bag, and I take it to the counter and start helping her put stuff away.

"Who did you need to call?" she asks, curious.

Shit. "Uhm… Isaac. I left my history book at school, and needed to call to see if I could use his. Homework, you know. The bane of my existence. I couldn't use our phone because Dad was talking to some buyers about something."

Mrs. Bridges nods politely, then her husband speaks. "Do you need a ride to the Guarrani's, Kev?"

I shake my head. "I have a car. Anyway, couldn't reach 'em."

"Well, why don't you try again? I need to talk to Mr. Guarrani, anyway."

Double shit. As all three sets of eyes turn to me, I meekly obey Mr. Bridges, pick up the phone, and dial the Guarrani's number.

It rings three times, and then a breathless voice answers. "Hello?"

"Isaac? It's Kevin."

"Yeah. What?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow your history book. I forgot mine at-"

"Listen, Kev, I can't talk right now, alright?"

And with that he hangs up. Weird.

Confused, I turn back to the Bridges. "Uh, they were busy with something. Isaac hung up on me."

I see Mr. Bridges shake his head- everyone thinks Isaac Guarrani has no manners, which isn't surprising because of the fact that he, uh, doesn't.

"Well, then, do you need a ride home?"

I blink, shooting a quick look at Krissy. I'd like to ask her why the hell she hung the phone up, but God knows I wouldn't get an answer.

"Nah." I shake my head. "I've got the Chevy."

-----

Driving always makes me think. I don't know why. So instead of going straight home, I drive around for a bit.

I spend most of an hour bemoaning my existence, but I also force myself to bemoan the fact that I'm a horrible son and was about to throw my parents to the wolves. After all, what's the use of bemoaning if you don't throw in a little variety?

So, by the time I arrive home I've come to the conclusion that I am the scum of the universe. And, as I walk through the door and see the look on my mothers face, I see that she probably shares the same thought.

"Where were you?"

"I went to the Bridges's. I called Radiation Control."

My mother's face pales, so I go on. "I hung up, though. I didn't see the point in going on with that. I'm sorry."

I go up to my room before she can respond.

-----

Before school the next morning, I went down to the basement with breakfast for the muties.

I have returned to my mother's service, for I am shamed.

And when I'm down there, one thing sticks out like a sore thumb.

Snoddy's not there.

"Race, where'd Snoddy go?" I asked as I handed him a glass.

Race shrugs, face pale. "He left after you did, and then he never came back."

What? Where could that idiot have gone off to? And hell, do I feel worse. Here's to hoping I didn't scare him away or something.

I quickly finish handing out breakfast, then run upstairs.

"Mom, where'd Dean go?"

Mom continues with whatever it is she's doing. "He left, Kevin."

"Left for where?"

"He was well enough to leave, so he moved on."

Oh. Great. Now I'm stuck with this guilt for the rest of my life.

My mom looks at the clock. "You're going to be late for school."

Oh, yes. Like that is going to break my heart. If I'm late, I just don't know what I'll do with myself.

Cry, probably.

Begrudgingly, I grab my backpack and wander out to where the bus is waiting.

-----

I walk into the school and turn down the hallway, blinking as the light reflecting off the whitewashed walls burn through my retinas, and head for my locker. Even from this far down the hall I can see Kayleigh Connors (the girl who has the locker next to mine) flirting with some guy, who's standing with his back to me.

Of course, that's not a surprise. Kayleigh flirts with _everyone_.

But does she always have to do it in front of my locker?

I shake my head as I walk up. "Kayleigh, must you always stand in front of my-"

I stop as the boy turns around, and I come face-to-face with Snoddy.

-----

I would like to stop and give a resounding 'What the fuck?' to the universe.

Because, seriously, things are getting insane.

Kayleigh smiles at me. "Oh, Kevin, have you met Dean? No, of course no, he's new: when could you have met him? Unless you met him before, after all he is Isaac's cousin-"

Uh, no. He's not. He's a kid who lived in the city until the plant leaked, he got radiation sickness, his family died and he took up residence in my basement.

Snoddy sticks out his hand, apparently for a handshake. "Nice to meet you." he says, though he doesn't really sound like he means it.

I shake his hand, seriously wondering why. I mean, I already know the guy. In fact, that bruise he's got on his cheekbone? Yup. From me.

Insert guilty twinge here.

"Well," Kayleigh chirped. "I hate to cut the small talk, but first period starts in-" she stopped to check her watch "-a minute and forty-two… forty one… forty-"

"Kayleigh!" I snap.

She grins meekly. "Well, you get the point. Dean, do you want me to show you where your English class is?"

Snoddy shrugs, then nods. "Sure. Why not?" he answers, and follows her, only pausing to glare at me.

Oh, great. Not only do the muties run my home life, but now they seek to take over the entirety of my existence.

With that thought I started towards my Chemistry class. Isaac was my lab partner, and maybe then _I'd get some fucking answers!_

All this crap is going to give me an ulcer or something, I swear.

------

I sit in my chair as the bell rang, and pulled out my notebook, laying it open on the table in front of me. The teacher, Miss Burt, quickly scans the room to see if anyone's missing, marks a couple of kids down, and then turns to begin her lecture.

And with that, I scribble _What the fuck?_ on my notebook and shove it in Isaac's direction. And he promptly shoves it back.

I grit my teeth, watching as Miss Burt turns her back to us again, and shove the notebook at Isaac again, elbowing him in the side.

Issac turns, glares at me, and shoves it back.

I glare back, and shove it at him again, hard, and kick his shin.

"Ow!" Miss Burt turns and gives Isaac a 'Look', and he smiles apologetically until she turns back around and continues lecturing about hydrogen or helium or zinc or something else atomy.

"What are you, a _girl_?" he hisses, snatching the notebook from me, and begins to write in it.

Why is it that everyone always calls me a girl? I'm not effeminate, am I?

Oh, well, I'll save that little journey into 'knowing myself' for another day.

Right now, I'm busy waiting (impatiently, I might add) for Isaac to finish writing. And soon he does, and I grab the notebook and read it quickly.

And I decide that I really hate him:

_There once was a boy named Kevin_

_Who acted like he was eleven_

_But he wasn't really a boy-_

_A dolly was his favorite toy_

_And he's also FUCKING ANNOYING!_

Pfft. Jackass. Annoying doesn't even rhyme with Kevin. And since when did I become the world's bitch?

There was a P.S. written at the bottom, though, that made me feel (slightly) better.

_I'll talk with you at lunch, you incredible moron._

My friends are the nicest, aren't they?

-----

Later that afternoon, I sit at the lunch table and wait for Isaac to join me.

"Annoying doesn't rhyme with Kevin." I inform Isaac as he sits down.

He shrugs. "Yeah, but it's true."

"So. Seriously, dude. What's up with this-"

"Wait a sec." Isaac cut me off and waved to someone behind me. "Hey, cuz! Over here!"

Wha- aw, man. I glowered down at my plate (whatever it was that the lunch ladies were trying to poison me with today) as Snoddy, Kayleigh and her friend Michelle Beaufont came over and sat down.

I blink at Kayleigh. "Have you been stalking him all day?" I ask, jerking my thumb at Snoddy.

"Yes."

Poor guy. When I turn back to Isaac, though, I see a triumphant look on his face and I realize- he had seen Kayleigh and Michelle with Snoddy, and knew if they were here he wouldn't be able to answer any of my questions.

I glare at him. "Jerk. You said-"

"I know." He responds, gloating.

"And then you-"

"I knew."

"But you promised-"

"So?"

"You liar." I glare, and he just laughs.

------

I made a promise to myself that I would go to Isaac's right after school- I figured he could explain everything to me then.

Of course, all my planning soon goes astray when Katie sits down next to me on the bus. It's difficult to plan when you're busy looking for sharp objects to jam into your skull so you can _stop the pain_.

"Who's Isaac's cousin?"

I roll my eyes. "Dean."

"Well, it's strange. You know, I heard-"

"Katie."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

She pouts at me, "I'm just saying, it's fishy."

"Katie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you speak?"

She blinks, but I just turn and look out the window as the bus bounces down the dirt road towards my farm, and wonder what big surprise is waiting for me next.

-----

**Gah, alright. This is the last of the 'calm' chapters (I think)- be prepared for craziness ahead. cackle**

**That ending bit it, but I needed to leave off there because Things Are Getting Interesting. But you don't know that, yet.**


End file.
